How to Murder Someone

So my girlfriend has been watching a lot of daytime TLC and Oxygen. In case you don’t know, TLC stands for ‘The Learning Channel.’ For a channel about learning, I’ve gotta say it sure has a lot of shows about The World’s Fattest Teenagers, and Little People. But one thing I have defiantly been learning is how to murder someone.

Snapped is a show about women who have snapped. By ‘snapped’ the show means ‘have killed their husbands/boyfriends.’ Watching this show is a great How To about murdering. Naturally they don’t actually say, “Police will check your phone records” but they do say, “Police checked her phone records.” After the forth or fifth time you hear about defensive wounds on the husband’s arms and life insurance policies that were taken out only a few days before you start to pick up on some stuff.

So I don’t know if I should be nervous or not, but she’s forgotten about my peanut allergy a few times.

Office troubles

Every office has that one co-worker who is an absolute dick. In Funbox's office our dick jokes around constantly, and his jokes are always at the expense of interns and other underlings, and always along the lines of “you are incompetent and will be fired soon.” When you work in an industry like I do, where such things are a real possibility, it’s rather cruel perpetually tell underlings that they might not make this months rent.

That’s why I'm grooming one of the interns to kill him.

It starts simply enough. A few jokes by the water cooler, a shared commiseration that we have to spend 10 hour days cooped up with this asshole, and of course a steady supply of fruit snacks to reward any thought that leans in a murderous direction. The groundwork thus laid, I then began a series of casual IM’s that I would send whenever the offender was yelling at the intern. He would try to hide his smiles when “FUNB0xx1: What a Dickhole!” poped up on his desktop while the oblivious red-faced ass-munch screamed away. After that, it was simple, almost too simple. I just slowly increased the frequency and intensity of the IM’s. Now the IM's are more like “FUNB0xx1: Soon he’ll be dead, and we will consummate our love. Soon my angel… soon.”

Every now and then he will express reluctance “InTERnGuy1444: What about an office prank instead of, you know, first degree murder.” But I just ease his mind with more fruit snacks.

meeting

After a few minutes, his focus completely shifted to the cup full of peppermints placed at his table, and his effort to grasp one with his mind and hurl it into the gaping maw of Deborah, the much hated company controller. He imagined her feathered 1980's haircut standing on end in fright, as five grams of cellophane-wrapped-breath-freshening-death closed upon her. Despite the unlikelihood of the scenario, he knew if the universe granted him this power, it would be the most productive meeting the company had ever had.